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KALEB

C razy. Volatile. Violent.

A murderer.

My mother always knew what I was. Shiloh’s dad called me that and more to my face. The few idiots who waited for me outside the courthouse were equally creative.

Not Dr. Reynolds. He calls me interesting .

His special mask-wearing patient. My blatant lack of remorse for killing two innocents.

Or so the rest of the world had believed before Shiloh’s dad swept the story under the rug.

Why wouldn’t they? No charges were ever pressed against the kids who assaulted Shiloh. NDAs were signed, preventing everyone involved from ever speaking about it. The two boys and my stepsister were dismissed.

Imagine my wrath. At Shiloh’s dad. At the kids who made her feel so small. So insignificant.

After two weeks of the so-called investigation , the charges were dropped.

Boys will be boys.

Her dad would’ve paid for it with his life if I’d had more time. If I hadn’t been focused on killing her attackers first and watching after her every other waking minute.

Until the police arrived, she cried herself to sleep every night. She clung to me at home and couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder.

She needed me. And I let her dad live. Temporarily.

Anyway.

Calling those kids innocents? What a load of crap.

As soon as Shiloh stepped into the house with her red-rimmed eyes. With her tormented gaze.

When the first tear slipped.

I knew.

Who did this to you?

Going about it the right way failed her. Us. I believed, foolishly, that I could be a better person for her.

Another reason I went to the authorities first? She deserved to see that the system wasn’t entirely fucked. That the motherfucking hall monitor was an anomaly.

Yeah, right. The system was every bit as rotten as it had been during the years my dad beat the shit out of me.

Avenging her had been my sole purpose ever since. I couldn’t rest until I’d taken care of them.

I wasn’t crazy. I was determined.

The same determination grips me now.

It’s what has gotten me here, to her neighborhood .

I memorized her address, along with Jerome’s number, before I chewed up and swallowed the note he slipped me.

I got here after snapping a man’s neck and stealing his car to get to her.

In my defense, he should’ve known better. No good deed goes unpunished. Who pulls over to pick up a huge man wearing a mask, anyway?

The random dead man on the side of the road, that’s who.

Enough of him.

This is about me and her.

The girl who’s haunted my dreams throughout the years.

The lights are off in her apartment, but she’s there. I feel her heart beating inside it. Hear her soul calling to mine.

I look around her street before I walk up to her building. If there’s one thing I learned from my past, it’s this: I can do whatever the fuck I want, as long as I don’t get caught.

The street is quiet. It’s late enough that everyone’s home, sleeping.

Except this guy. A man sitting in the bushes across from her building. Sleeping.

Sleeping means he isn’t a reporter. The fact that he’s alone and hiding in the bushes instead of waiting in a nondescript car means he isn’t a cop, either.

Plus, Shiloh’s dad silenced the news about my escape. During the first hour of my ride here, they talked about me on the radio.

One hour, that’s it.

No one’s supposed to be here from either the press or the cops .

Which leaves me with one option.

Shiloh’s controlling father didn’t leave anything to chance. He had someone sent here to make sure Shiloh doesn’t stir shit.

A private investigator.

A snoozing moron.

I stuff my hands in my jeans pockets, tilting my head.

With no money and nowhere to stay, I should go house hunting. Kill another person or two so I could have a place to lay low while I stalk her.

Her home won’t do, obviously.

Hmm.

I really should get going.

Impossible.

My lungs expand as I suck in a deep breath. Air filters in through the holes in my mask. Same air she’s been breathing since this summer.

At the thought, at the notion, I come alive.

A temporary home for myself can wait.

Every cell of my body demands I go to her.

I’m throbbing in my jeans. My heart slams against my ribs. I relish the thought of inflicting harm. Of hurting her. Taking her.

It’s been that way for the past four years.

This incessant need to have my little sister who hasn’t written to me. Naked. Crying. Coming with my name on her lips.

A pressure builds behind my temples.

Patience.

I really, really should get out of here .

Not before I leave her a gift, though.

Dick’s finger.

Yup.

It’s as good an excuse as any to climb into her apartment.

Guessing her door must be barricaded from the inside—a result of living with a monster, no doubt—I go to her balcony.

I bend my knees and hop.

Easy. My hands cling to the railing. My abs and biceps engage as I lift one foot onto the balcony and then the other.

After some maneuvering, I’m up there, crossing my arms over my chest.

Taking a step closer, I look into her dark apartment.

No shadows dance around in the living room.

She’s asleep, as I suspected.

But I feel her. It’s stronger here. Her emotions. Her hurt and pain and fear. So strong I taste them on my tongue.

That’s how powerful our connection is. The invisible bond that’s tied us to each other since day one.

Of course I fucking feel her.

Not bothering to adjust my painful hard-on, I slide the glass door open and step inside. Silently, I move through the living room and head straight to the open door to my left.

Her bedroom.

Except she isn’t in her bed. The sheets are made. Shiloh isn’t lying beneath them.

I wasn’t wrong about her being here. Her phone is on the bed.

She must be here somewhere.

Before I go looking for her, I pick up the device .

Hmm. An insight into her life. Can’t pass that up.

A single swipe of my thumb on her unlocked phone grants me entrance into her world. A few notifications flash on the screen. Messages and missed phone calls. Someone left a voice message.

The first text is from her dad, listed by his name, Ronan Talbot.

I know he’s out, Shiloh. Don’t you dare embarrass me. There’ll be consequences.

Delete.

He’s done hurting her.

I’m here. I’ll be the one to hurt her. Pleasure her. Protect her.

Next in line is a phone call from an unknown number. The one right after that is her voicemail. I delete the missed call and listen to the recorded message.

“Hello, Miss Talbot. This is Dr. Reynolds. Your stepbrother’s psychiatrist. From Berkshire. I have a good reason to suspect that your stepbrother might be?—”

Delete.

In fact, why leave her any of these notifications?

The world has nothing to offer her.

Only me.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Now that that’s out of the way…

Come out, come out wherever you are.

Inhaling the sweet air in the room, I catch a whiff of her scent.

Her closet. She’s there .

The door doesn’t make a sound as I slide it open.

Moonlight filters into the bedroom, spilling into the closet. And I see her.

Fucking adorable, thinking she could hide in there.

There’s no hiding from me.

My Shiloh is curled into a ball on the floor. Her full brown hair is the same length as it was when I was taken away. Her expression is as angelic, as innocent, as sad as it looked in the most recent photo I have of her.

Trailing my gaze over her body has my heart pumping. She’s soft, curvy. I want to wrap her bare legs around my neck. Bury my fingers into her generous hips. Run them along her waist. Under her sweater. Under her bra, if she’s wearing any.

The need to take my mask off and bite her soft flesh is insistent. It almost takes over.

But then I see what she’s hugging to her chest.

A mask. My mask. The mask I’d worn for years. The one she brought to the courtroom.

I’d recognize it anywhere.

She’s had it with her. All these years.

She missed me.

By the looks of it, she’s been afraid of me too. Otherwise, why sleep here?

So many secrets. So many things to catch up on, little sister.

Fuck, she’s perfect. A tiny ball of fear, waiting for me.

I bet she got wet when she heard the news of my escape. I bet her sweet pussy clenched on air, hoping I’d get to her.

There’ll be time .

Time to spread her legs and lick her. Time to take her virginity while giving her mine. Because of course she’s a virgin. She had to have saved herself for me.

Time to hurt her for years of shutting me out of her life.

Her gift first.

Dick’s finger. I came here to drop it off. I should. Drop it here and leave.

Except look at her. Fuck. Look. At. Her.

After four years of jerking off to her photos, I feel cheated on.

None of them have ever made me feel this.

Being in her presence hits different. My desire has a chokehold on me. I haven’t even touched myself and I’m already the hardest that I’ve ever been.

Images of her crying and screaming and begging me to stop are poisoning my head. They make me steer off the plan.

My dick is in my hand before I have a second to think about it. Thumb rubbing my precum on the barbell.

A groan reverberates in my chest, but I suppress it. I choke on it. It’s a fucking hardship, staying silent. It’s agony to keep my need bottled up inside as I squeeze my dick and pump.

My abs are tight with need. My throat locks.

Shiloh’s lips part in her sleep and there’s nothing—absolutely nothing —I want more than to stuff my fat cock between them.

Violating her mouth is all I can think of. It can’t be stopped, this fire. This urge to fuck her throat. Watch her eyes snap open when I’m gripping her chin and sinking every inch of my dick deep into her mouth .

The horror I’d see in those blue oceans. The sheer terror in them.

Jesus, I need to have her. But no, I won’t rush this.

She won’t wake up if I drop to my knees. If I come close to her.

Need that.

My towering shadow blocks out most of the moonlight. I’m no less tempted by her when she’s bathed in darkness.

I lean on the nearest wall and jerk off to her.

“D-don’t kill me,” she mumbles in her sleep.

Talking to me.

My cock jumps in my hand.

I’m her stepbrother. Her ex-savior. Her current boogeyman.

A nightmare that protects and haunts her.

Her daddy must’ve fed her lies about me while I’d been locked up. Has to be why she hasn’t written.

Too bad it’s backfired on him. Terrifying her gets me off like no fucking other.

She would’ve screamed if she had woken up to this. Me, looming over her, seeking pleasure by pumping my dick. She would’ve scrambled away from me at the sight of my thick crown and the gleaming barbell.

You’re a perfect little thing, Shiloh. I’ll have so much fun defiling you. Destroying you.

The thought of ruining her for any other man sends me over the edge. God. Fuck. I lean over Shi to shoot my orgasm on her innocent face .

I empty myself on her cheeks, her lips. On her hair. My hips rock into my hand until I’m spent. Until I’m done.

Until I’m able to breathe again and tuck myself back inside my jeans.

For a few more seconds, I watch her through the dark holes in my mask. My girl is dirty. Filthy with my cum on her and my mask in her arms.

Mine.

You’ve earned your gift , I mouth as I place Dick’s finger next to my old mask and leave.

I won’t be gone for long.

Out here, in the darkness of the night, I realize I can’t spend the night in another bed.

No.

I’ll be back under hers.

When I find a temporary home, I will.